


Banned on celluloid

by Nalyra



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 21:41:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11860218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: Whatever happened to the Dragon's film from the cliff house?^^





	Banned on celluloid

The little package arrives in the middle of the morning, while Will is out playing with the newest addition to their little family, a stray called ‚Bummer‘, courtesy of an almost argument. A futile argument, he might have known better.

It’s silly, really, this falling into old patterns of behavior, now that their paths have converged and everything is rewritten. Hannibal smirks at the little parcel, thumb stroking the rough paper. Time will tell whether this was a good idea.

Hannibal returns to the kitchen and places it into one of the drawers, for later,  
deciding to watch it by himself, first. After all, this has the potential to destroy the fragile peace they have worked so hard at achieving, the months of careful navigation of new boundaries, of respective needs. 

A yipping sound and laughter, coming freely from the backyard. 

The laughter is a new development, following the healing of wounds and souls, colored by acceptance.

It’s beautiful.

 

****

 

It takes weeks to track down a proper projector and by the time it arrives the package is an itch under Hannibal’s skin, irritating and constant. Will watches him over dinner, awareness easy now, seeing too much and not enough, always. 

Hannibal doesn’t bother to hide his interest anymore, gaze dropping to lips or throat freely whenever he chooses. Will basks in it, or, better, accepts freely, their company reminiscent of the time he tried to reel Hannibal in. Still, some things remain unsaid. Yet. Hannibal wonders if he could obtain Ortolans. For next week, maybe. He smiles at Will, warmth spreading when the smile is echoed, lightly, easily.

„What did you think about just now?“

Hannibal lowers his gaze to the food for a moment, concentrating on filling his fork, the smirk evident in his voice.

„Ortolans.“

Will tilts his head, his lips twitching. He reaches for his glass, tone teasing.

„Ah yes, I remember you enjoying seeing me swallow even then.“

Hannibal quirks an eyebrow, taking a sip of his own wine. He clicks his tongue, truth seeping into the words.

„I have always enjoyed seeing you swallow.“

The smile leaves Will’s face and Hannibal curses silently, opening his mouth to diffuse the words but Will beats him to it, tone flat.

„Why didn’t you tell me sooner, Hannibal?“

Hannibal swallows a fork of his food, artfully arranged on it. He chews, knowing he is allowed to take his time, knows Will will wait him out. He frowns for a moment before locking their gazes, the candlelight casting their eyes in deep shadows.

„I fought hard, for a long time, Will.“

Will looks at him for a long moment before raising his glass, silently toasting.

„So did I.“

Hannibal swallows and then raises his own glass in an answering toast.

„To hard won victories, then.“

Will doesn’t smile, but his eyes soften imperceptibly, taking another sip of the wine. 

Hannibal finishes his plate and waits for Will to finish as well, clearing their plates after. He sets up the projector in the living room, fidgeting, rather uncharacteristically. He feels Will step up behind him, leaning against the door frame. His tone is soft when he speaks and Hannibal does not have to turn to know that he has got himself a whiskey, the tang of the amber liquid heavy in the air.

„I was under the impression you might want to watch it alone, the first time.“

Hannibal’s hands still on the projector, just for a moment, licking his lips.

„I was not aware that you knew.“

„Hmmm.“

Will pushes himself up and forward, coming up to Hannibal in measured steps. His left hand comes up and hovers over the upper spool, body so close Hannibal can feel its heat.

„It’s your prize, Hannibal. You took the time to reposition the camera after all.“

Hannibal exhales, chancing a look at Will, looking so easily relaxed next to him. Deceptively relaxed. Hannibal presses his lips together for a moment, his right hand coming up to settle on top of Will’s left, delighted when Will allows it. 

„I was not sure what the future would hold. If we would ever come to enjoy our destiny.“

Will chuckles lightly, his sharp look in direct contrast to the gentle overturning of his hand, offering his open palm. Hannibal threads his fingers through Will’s, tilting his head towards him, just a bit. Will sighs and then pulls their joined hands up and over, effectively pulling Hannibal over to the sofa with him. He lets himself fall onto it, sprawling, leaving Hannibal standing next to him, a bit weary. Will releases his hand, letting his own fall to his thigh, fingers drumming, once.

„What if it doesn’t do it justice, Hannibal?“

Hannibal sits down on the edge, perching uncomfortably. 

„It can never do the night justice.“

A tilt of Will’s head, his jaw coming forward and up, aware of the lines of his throat and the way Hannibal likes to watch.

„Why are we watching it then?“

Hannibal purses his lips, his fingers flicking some non-existing fluff off his pants.

„I had asked Chiyoh to acquire any tape there might be before you came back to … ask me.“

Will snorts, his eyes flashing with something, the lines of his smile changed by the still red line in his cheek.

„Before you insisted I say ‚pretty please‘ you mean.“

Hannibal locked eyes with him, his voice intense.

„And you did.“

Will smirks and then takes a sip of his whiskey, raising his eyebrows in a repeat motion.

„Start the film? Please?“

Hannibal blinks at him and then gets up, hesitating a split second before he presses the power button, the projector whirring to life, the silent film starting eerily in black and white on the wall above their fireplace. Hannibal settles again on the coach, watching himself speak with the Dragon while clutching his wound. There is a sharp inhale next to him when the image-Hannibal snarls in reaction to the knife to Will’s head, far beyond the camera’s radius. The camera stays on past Hannibal showing his teeth, face contorting in fury just before he closes his eyes and then pushes himself up, the world tilting as the camera is faced towards the broken window and the terrace beyond.

„It’s too dark…“

Hannibal’s voice is incredulous, watching the blur of something white against the backdrop, moving back and forth and then stilling, the silhouette of them against the sky an impression of something, but far from easily discernible. Will exhales a shaking breath and then clicks his tongue, huffing a laugh.

„Guess that’s why they still think us dead, huh? With all the blood there… and us simply gone… with film or not, there wasn’t that much discernible.“

He trails off and Hannibal leans back, watching the film stay on the empty cliff until the sun comes up in it and suddenly there is a blinding light, the spool whirring, empty. Hannibal swallows, the words forcing themselves beyond the constriction in his throat, coming out gravelly.

„You were iriscendent that night.“

Hannibal looks over a Will, his eyes bright blue in the light from the projector.

„You will always be so in my memory.“

Will tilts his head, smiling a wavering smile.

„What am I now?“

It’s the truth, plain and simple.

„Everything.“

Will exhales and then reaches out with his left hand, smiling softly when Hannibal takes it. Will tugs and Hannibal lets himself being pulled forward, settling between Will’s legs and against Will with the feeling of coming home, finally. Will’s hand drifts through Hannibal’s hair and then locks in it, tilting Hannibal’s head up and back a bit, his face so close his eyes take up Hannibal’s vision completely. His eyes crinkle, amusement evident in every syllable.

„You were so pissed that only I got a sip of that wine…“

Will grins, continuing without letting Hannibal interject.

„… it was the moment I realized that Bedelia was right. It was indeed ‚can’t live with, can’t live without‘…“

Hannibal swallows, his voice gravelly and low.

„Was?“

A flash of teeth and Will comes closer, his breath caressing Hannibal’s lips.

„Well, I tried the ‚can’t live with‘. So now I’m trying the ‚can’t live without‘.“

It’s a non-brainer, really, falling easily from Hannibal’s lips.

„I love you, Will.“

A soft touch of lips, jolting through them both. Will licks his lips, wet breath on Hannibal’s lips. 

„Show me.“

Hannibal closes his eyes, trying to calm his treacherous heart. Will chuckles at him and then kisses him deeply, the kiss instantly dirty, instantly heavenly, instantly everything. Hannibal moans and then spends hours to make sure to show him, bowing up and back into the thrusts in the early morning hours, the hand on his hip punishing, the one over his heart grounding. 

 

****

 

Another package arrives a few weeks later. Hannibal stares at it with a confused frown, unaware of any order. He takes it out to the backyard, watching Will and Bummer play, a flash of a smile greeting him, as well as a wet kiss, accompanied by the smell of sweat and dog and happiness.

Will tilts his head and reads the return address, grinning wryly for a moment.

„Open it.“

Hannibal shoots him a look and then carefully opens the package, his fingers gripping the frame too tight when he pulls the picture out. It’s them, on the cliff, the high resolution image apparently taken with a high class zoom, captured just after the Dragon’s death. 

Their embrace.

Hannibal frowns, tilting his head up to look at Will.

„How did you obtain this?“

Will smirks, throwing the frisbee once more for Bummer.

„I took a tracking device with me. Freddie took that picture. We had an… understanding.“

Hannibal nods to himself, fingers tracing the photo.

„She would publish the story you told her beforehand and get the photos, exclusively.“

Will bends down and presses a kiss to his lips, there and gone again.

„Yes. I wanted us dead to the world. One way or another.“

„Vicious boy.“

Will chuckles and then steps back, bending down to retrieve the frisbee from the yipping Bummer. He pets the dog enthusiastically and Hannibal drags his gaze away from the picture of Will’s becoming to watch them now, here.

Even more beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> _____
> 
> Let me know what you think?^^


End file.
